Waxing Poetic
by Phx
Summary: Tag to Long Distance Caller. Six beer, two shooters, two brothers and a bar. Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.


This one has been sitting around since the night Long Distance Caller aired but I wasn't sure if I should post it or not as it was just a conversation between them. But I've decided, what the heck, and here it is. Special thank you to Red Hardy and Trasan :) So enjoy, I hope and let me know what you think. Phx

Disclaimer: I don't own or make money from Supernatural. I just like to play in their sandbox.

Small spoiler for Long Distance Caller.

One final thing: the POV is odd but it is intentional and done for style.

**Waxing Poetic**

- tag to Long Distance Caller

- The Story -

_Two brothers are sitting at a table in a bar. It's a smoky bar filled with tired truckers and bleached blondes wearing too much make-up. Somewhere behind them Billy Ray is belting out 'Achy Breaky Heart' as the long-bearded DJ slumped over the equipment snores lightly. Six empty beer bottles and two empty shooters sit as conversation between them. They have been here for a while but neither has spoken until now._

"Hey, Dean?"

"Hmmm?"

"I'm sorry, man. I really am."

"For what?"

"For, you know, it not being Dad."

"Sam-"

"No, I mean it Dean. I know how much you wanted it to be him."

"Sammy…"

"I just wish – well it doesn't really matter what I wish, huh?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I just wish… I wish I could be enough. Stupid, huh?"

"Enough? Enough what? Being a jackass? 'Cause I gotta say, Sammy, you're more than enough of that."

_He chuckles at his own humor but then frowns when the younger man doesn't respond._

"Sam?"

"Look, never mind, okay? Just forget I said anything. I'm going to call it a night."

"Nuh uh, Mr. Touchy-Feely, you're not getting off that easy. What'ja mean you're not enough? Not enough what, Sam?"

"Dean…"

"Sam. Don't make me kick your ass, 'cause you're already half way there."

"Fine. You really want to know what I meant?"

"Duh, I think we've been over my part – now spill."

"I just meant… Dean… Oh crap. Look, dude, I know I'm a shitty substitute for Dad, okay? And that you'd rather have him here, but, Dean, I'm trying, man, I really am. Damnit, you have no idea how hard– and I just wish, that… that someday that might be almost good enough. Okay? That's it. That's what I meant."

"Wow. Dude, that was awesome. Now you want to translate 'cause you pretty much lost me after 'Oh crap.'"

"You know what, Dean? Screw you."

_He goes to stand but his brother grabs his arm, stopping him._

"Sam. Sammy? Sam!"

"No, forget it. I'm not doing this again, okay. You asked, I told. I'm sorry my logic defies your thinking but some days it just sucks more than others when you look at the most important person in you life and know he wishes you were someone else."

_Fully exposed now, his gaze drops to the table. He should have just kept his big mouth shut._

"Whoa. Wait a second. Back up the turnip truck, Elmer Fudd. What do you mean I wish you were someone else? And you'd better not be meaning a swimsuit model, Sam, 'cause then you'd have a point."

"I'm sorry I'm not Dad, Dean."

"Sam?"

"Let it go, Dean. I'm going to call Bobby maybe-"

"You don't get to do that."

"Excuse me?"

"You don't get to say you're sorry you aren't Dad to me. Not to me."

"Dean-"

"Shut up, Sam, and listen for once in your life 'cause I'm only ever going to say this once. Yes, it really sucks that Dad… that Dad isn't here. And it hurts, _God damnit_ it hurts, and yes I wish it'd been Dad too 'cause I'd really like to hear from him on this. I miss him, Sam. Oh God, I really do, but do I wish you were him or that he was here instead of you? No. Not for one second. I know I've been a jackass, Sam, and that I've said some pretty uncool things to you and I'd give just about anything to change that, but I can't… but don't think for one second that it means I don't want you here or that I don't know what you're going through trying to get me out of this deal, or even what you're going to go through if you can't… 'cause that ain't how it is. There is no one, NO ONE, Sam, that I would rather have here right now than you. Not even Dad-"

_He pauses, breathless, and prays his brother is hearing him. His brother who is wide-eyed and watching him, lips pursed in a surprised little 'o'. He waits until he sees the comprehension mingled with humility flitter across his brother's face before he speaks again._

"-Now can we stow all this hippe free love crap? 'Cause I gotta take a piss."

And with that, the conversation was over.

_The DJ snorts awake and changes the track. A large busted waitress empties the table of six empty beer bottles and two empty shooters. She watches as the two men leave the bar then sighs tiredly and moves on to the next table. _

The End


End file.
